


Eve of Yearning

by Ramul



Category: Overlord (Triumph Video Games)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Cunnilingus, Drug-Induced Sex, Everlight, Fairies, Gnomes, Licking, Multi, Orgy, Plant Magic, Rope Bondage, Size Difference, Voyeurism, fertility celebration, forest, kinky elves, settlement on trees, spider - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:48:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22295827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ramul/pseuds/Ramul
Summary: Four Greens want to steal drugs from an elven village and walk into the preparations of an orgy. What can go wrong?
Relationships: elf/elf in any combination and number, elf/panda, elven man/giant spider, elven woman/gnome hat, elven woman/tentacle plants, female green minion/elven man, gnome/beetle, green minion/elven woman, green minion/two fairies, green minion/water melon, human man/giant slug
Kudos: 5





	Eve of Yearning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sunjinjo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunjinjo/gifts).



> Written for a friend's birthday because I had no clue what to draw for him. Set in the setting of Sunjinjo's Minion Mistress (WARNING: contains spoilers regarding the Minion Mistress' ending).

The sun was hanging low over Everlight's jungle.

All kinds of plants, from the smallest saplings to the tallest tree giants, strived to get as much of it as possible. Accordingly, little of it reached the gloomy forest floor where the leaves were large and dark, to make do with what the taller plants left over for them.

The moist heavy air was filled with the song of birds, the shimmering wings of myriads of insects and a plethora of different smells. Earth, fungi, decaying plants, overripe figs.

Moving in absolute silence and their smell masked by the forest, the four figures didn't stand out in it at all. This was the kind of environment they were made for.

Sliver just turned briefly visible to give the others a hand signal before he vanished into nothingness again, showing them a wide grin at the same time. The others were similarly excited, both because of what they were planning and because of the air of forbiddenness around their deeds; while Overlady Jinx allowed them to move freely in her domain, there was a reason why there were vast expanses of the island without a Netherworld Gate in it.

The four Greens were heading towards an elven settlement, one of the few that still weren't razed to the ground for entertainment and lifeforce. Their intentions, however, were not of a violent nature.

Wherever there were elves, there were also their herbs. Some of them just tasted good and made great spices, others could numb pain or prevent wounds from getting infected. But the herbs the four were after were those that sharpened senses, relaxed the mind or made those consuming them see things that weren't there.

Sliver had discovered those herbs and the many uses for them a few years ago, but unfortunately, the decline of the elves on Everlight also meant a decline of the herbs; they were rare growing in the wild and some seemed to need the assistance of the elves to grow properly. It was a very unfortunate development which forced him to venture out further and further just to steal some bushels of the plants. Accordingly, it was nearly impossible to wipe the wide, toothy grin off his face once he had eavesdropped on Scythe talking about today being a sacred day for the elves on Everlight.

Sacred days meant elven gatherings. Elven gatherings meant they would consume the herbs Sliver was after, in quantities big enough all four of them would be carrying a big bushel home this evening.

Guffin raised his head over the cover of broad-leafed plants and sniffed the air. “Can smell them already.”

Another Green, either Bile or Morel, hissed in approval. They didn't want to waste time. Go in, grab what's loose, and return for a night of fun in the Barracks.

Soon they could see traces of elven civilisation in the jungle's wilderness, a basket filled with fresh fruit here, a bamboo ladder leaned against a trunk there. Looking up, the four could see the bridges and platforms built around the trees' massive trunks, the sound of footsteps and gentle laughter indicating the presence of elves up there. They didn't hesitate long and went up the nearest ladder.

The elven hideout turned out to be bigger than they expected. The lower platforms were loose and widely-spaced, but now they could see there was a whole village up in the treetops, closer to the low-hanging sun and partially hidden by the layers of leaves. Still grinning and snickering in anticipation, Sliver and the other three Greens went further up, drawn to the elven voices and the faint smell of the special herbs they were after.

None of the elves noticed the faint clicking of claws on wood or the smell of decay that clung to the Greens like a shield bug to a leaf. They were chatting, cutting fruit and arranging them on plates in patterns, playing on flutes and doing other elf things. Aside from the elves, there were a lot of other forest creatures up there, different kinds of birds and large Everlightian insects, fairies fluttering above, even a grass bear sitting on a platform in the distance. There was also a lot of gnomes skittering and squeaking around, and the Greens had to restrain themselves from grabbing the pests and flinging them to their deaths.

The celebration hadn't started yet, which meant the herbs would be stored on one of the platforms to be distributed later. The question was on which, and that might turn out to be a long search between all the crates, bags and pillows that were all over the platforms and arbors.

Just as Sliver was done sniffing several different bags for their contents and rose to check the crates to the left, his jaw nearly dropped.

A dark-haired elven woman walked past with a springy step, a plate with fruit in her hands and a smile on her lips. She was wearing a wrap-skirt in the colours of autumn, but what really caught Sliver's attention was her clothing above, or rather the absence of it leaving her breasts in plain view. Sliver stared at her wide-eyed as she passed, his pupils fixated on the pink nipples and following every single one of their movements.

The other three, just as transfixed by the sight as Sliver, didn't register the singing behind them, or the creaking of rapidly expanding plant tissue. When they noticed the vines wrapping around their limbs and forcing them to the ground, it was already too late.

“Look what unusual visitors we have here,” a voice behind them said.

The captured Greens, phased out of their invisibility, hissing and thrashing in their vine restraints, got the attention of the half-naked elven woman as well.

“How nice,” the woman smiled. “Servants of the Lady of Darkness, joining us today?”

“I don't think so,” said the other voice, its source walking around the summoned vines and turning out to be a middle-aged elven man clad in a tunic that seemed to consist of a leaf grown into that specific shape. “They have too much fire in their eyes.”

“But of course, Marilan, you just tied them up without asking first!” the woman laughed.

The man bent over and gave each of the Minions a look. “I'm joking, of course they can join. They simply aren't in the right mood yet, I need to fix that. Then they can celebrate Yernayar with us.”

Both the man and the woman walked away, in different directions.

“Yernayar?” Bile asked.

“Crap,” Morel said. “This is fertility celebration.”

Now Sliver remembered the meaning as well. He had heard of Yernayar, one of the most important celebrations for the Everlightian elves, the day when everyone mated with everyone. He could imagine why Morel was not very thrilled about it; male Greens might work pretty well with female elves, but he was not so sure about it if the sexes were reversed, considering the size difference.

The man returned with a flat object resembling a large tea kettle, with a fragrant smoke pouring out of several openings. He placed the kettle next to the Greens entangled in the vines.

“This will get you in the right mood,” he said and left.

Time passed, and Yernayar took shape. The elves ate the fruit from the plates, talked, laughed and played instruments. First there were more and more elves in various state of undress, then some of them were completely naked and soon started kissing and rolling between the cushions and on the carpets, with squeals, moans and other sound of mating in the air.

The four Greens were still bound by the vines but all the effects of the herbs burning inside that kettle the plant singer had left behind did their work. Any bloodlust they had, be it the desire to kill the plant singer for catching them or the general agitation the sight of living gnomes caused, had been quenched completely.

Instead, a whole different feeling was stoked by the smoke to levels none of the Greens had ever experienced before. Any plans they had about stealing some herbs for themselves were forgotten, replaced by the intense desire to join in mating, no matter with whom or what, and the sensations of the things happening all around them added only oil to the fire burning in their nethers. It was almost physically painful.

Luckily, they soon noticed that the vines had gotten weaker over time as well. Bile freed himself first and ran off like a grass bear was after him. Guffin and Morel got free in almost the same moment, each of them taking a different direction on the search to quench their smoke-induced desires, while Sliver, drawing in a last deep breath of the hypnotizing smoke, went in the same direction as Morel.

Sliver felt like he had landed in paradise. Whatever had been mixed together in that smoke kettle, he would take home as much of it as he could carry tonight. Not the part that made him docile as a lamb, though. Where he had wanted to kill any gnome he had seen up in the settlement before, he now only passed a glance to the little creatures. Once he got at the herbs, he would sort the good ones out and leave the bad ones he didn't need for the elves.

Right now, he had more pressing matters to tend do, quite literally. The smoke had contained one herb he had never tried before, a herb that let his loins feel like they were about to explode, mixed with an overpowering desire to let them explode inside a warm, fleshy tunnel.

To his luck, Sliver didn't have just to watch others mating and found a potential partner very soon, in the form of an unoccupied elven woman with blonde hair and a patterned, flower-adorned headband rolling up a rope.

She noticed his approach and turned around, looking mildly surprised. “Oh, hello. You are an interesting-looking fellow. I am Melyna. Who are you?”

“Me Sliver,” he replied. “Want to mate?”

Melyna let out a small laugh. “So direct? Why, yes, but only if you help me with a small problem first.”

Sliver's ears went askew. “Problem?”

Melyna rose from her sitting position on the round carpet, walked over to him and knelt down to be at his eye level. A hand went behind Sliver's ear and pulled his head closer to hers, until they were almost touching.

“I want you to tie me up on that tree,” Melyna whispered into his ear.

Both of Sliver's ears rose up, followed by his mouth corners. While he found her request rather strange, it was no hard task, he would remain close to her while he did it and if that was all what he needed for her to help him ease the boiling in his nethers, he would eagerly comply.

The elven woman handed him several rolls of rope, then walked over to the tree, where she knelt down on the carpet with her arms spread wide.

As she requested, Sliver began to wrap the rope around her waist.

“No, that's not how it's done!” the elf laughed. “Let me show you, let's start it simple.”

She offered Sliver her hands, wrists up. “Tie the rope around them.”

Sliver did as she said. “A bit tighter. Now, make a knot. Good. Do you see that branch over there? If you can, fasten the other end of the rope there, if not, the balustrade will do.”

With the loose end between his teeth, Sliver jumped up on the low-hanging branch. “Pull it taut, I will tell when it's right. Yes, that's good.”

He looked at his work. Melyna was now kneeling on the ground, her arms tied together and pulled up by the rope, giving her little range of movement as long as she staid in that position. Yet, she was grinning widely, as if Sliver had been licking rather than restraining her.

“And now I'm all yours, Sliver.”

Not needing to have it said twice, he grinned and let his fingers travel over Melyna's body. Now that he had thought of licking, he was all too curious to find out what she tasted like first. His tongue touched the depression under her breastbone first, traveling straight upward until it reached her chin. At the same time, his seeking hands closed in on her breasts.

Sliver slowly worked himself around her until it was her spine he was licking when he had brought himself into a position where he could reach the spot his own nethers were longing for.

He had to fiddle around a bit to get his loincloth off, and went in with one smooth movement. Melyna let out a small yelp and pushed against Sliver's hips, who wrapped his arms around her waist tightly.

It didn't take long for Sliver to get all cross-eyed from the sensations this caused. Elven women felt very different from what he was used to, more spacious and a lot smoother, great in their very own way. Melyna looked like she was enjoying it as much as Sliver did, albeit he was not quite sure. The elf was wriggling and pulling against the ropes, as if she wanted to free herself, even if it was her own idea, but if the sounds she made were any indication, everything was as it should be.

It seemed that in this section of the settlement the others celebrating Yernayar were as weird as Melyna. If Sliver looked to the right he could see a plant singer trying to sing but constantly interrupting her song with moans and squeals while the vines she controlled held her up by her limbs, wildly writhing inside both of her tunnels. To the left two elven women were joking and laughing, and a tied-up human man was lying in their midst, struggling, letting out muffled screams into his gag and shaking his head as one of the elves brought a large slug close to his manhood.

Sliver pushed into her harder and Melyna pushed harder against him in return, at least as far as her ropes allowed her. Despite it would have surely been more exciting to mate if she could move freely, seeing her struggling against the ropes was oddly arousing to Sliver, as if the sight of her squirming, restrained form awakened something inside him he hadn't been aware of existing.

He retreated and pushed himself under the elf, between her knees and emerging from underneath her. Looking up, it appeared like Melyna towered above him, her form pulled taut by the rope supporting her and her face a grimace of bliss. Sliver continued as soon as he could, with his new position allowing him to make up for the restrained movement of his partner and his eyes transfixed by her breasts bouncing up with each thrust.

The little improvement Sliver made rewarded him with ever more intense sensations as his rod slowly swelled up to its full size. The Minion stopped. While he was as eager to continue as Melyna was, seeing her tied up like this and noting how much pleasure this sight alone brought him, he wanted to enjoy her to the fullest. Despite this being his first encounter with anyone who liked being tied up with ropes beforehand, his head was spinning with ideas how he could tie her up elsewise. Slipping out of her, Sliver got up on shaky legs and cut the rope that held Melyna up. The elf dropped on the carpet with a surprised squeal, but caught herself with her hands.

“You didn't like it?” She turned towards the Minion, looking a bit sad, but her face lit up immediately when she saw him holding two rolls of rope in his hands.

“Liked it, but want to try something different now.”

With aid from Melyna, Sliver had restrained her in a different way. She was lying on her back now, her hands pulled over her head again and tied to the balustrade, but additionally her legs had been forced spread with two ropes wrapped around her ankles. He had grabbed a pillow from nearby and put it under her back to bring her rump into a good position. Melyna was already struggling and pulling against the ropes, full of anticipation.

Sliver all but jumped into her, humping her furiously to shake off the craving pressure that had built up in his tool during the time it had to wait. He briefly jolted and Melyna let out a squeal when she could feel his prongs emerge, reaching deeper parts of her tunnel.

He enjoyed this more than he expected. Whether it were the herbs messing with his mind or something he would always have enjoyed if he would have been aware of it didn't matter. Mating with a partner who was restrained like this, squirming and bucking against ropes that kept them in a position they couldn't get out by themselves while he had full control over what he wanted to do with her was oddly arousing and he couldn't tell why.

Was this what dominating felt like?

In his haze, Sliver grinned to himself. He, a mere Minion, a creature created only to serve a higher power, was dominating someone else. Of course, the current Overlady allowed them more freedoms than any Master before, but it was hard to work against something as deeply ingrained into his mind as the need to serve. The taste of forbiddenness only fueled his lust and he transferred it into moving ever harder and watch Melyna react to this with fascination. The only downside was her internal anatomy; elves lacked the split tunnel female Minions had and having his prongs forced together like this added an unpleasant pressure into the mix of ecstatic sensations he was experiencing, but somehow it was exciting at the same time, putting up a type of restraint for him to struggle against himself.

Since Melyna was reduced to little more than pulling against the ropes that held her spread on the ground, Sliver began to pleasure her in more than one way. He grabbed hold of her breasts, generously drawing his rough tongue all over them, circling the tip around her nipples. Melyna reacted to this by moaning louder and squirming harder, only encouraging Sliver to intensify his efforts. She let out a pleasured shriek when he began to gently bite her right nipple with his small front teeth while he rolled the other nipple between his fingers.

Unfortunately, Sliver couldn't keep this up for long; as much as he enjoyed watching Melyna's reactions to him fondling her breasts, he had to let go. Feeling his climax building up he didn't want to accidentally injure her, so he tightly wrapped his arms around her waist and began to thrust harder to make up for it.

The thrusts soon turned into violent jolts and Sliver let out a weird groan, going cross-eyed as his nethers were unloading their juices in hot gushes. The spasms waned soon and he collapsed on top of the tied-up elf.

“That was so much better than I had expected. You're a natural, Sliver.”

He only panted in response. Mating with Melyna turned out to be better for himself than he had expected as well, he felt like he was about to melt. Nevertheless he pushed himself off her and crouched down between her legs. He hadn't felt Melyna reaching her height herself, and that seemed a bit disappointing for him. Since his rod had been satisfied for now and retracted into his body for a little rest, it was now his tongue Sliver used to tease Melyna down below.

He licked over her moist folds, breathing in the aroma of her nethers and savouring the taste of her fluids before he planned to go inside. However, he noticed that Melyna was reacting strongly to him licking from the outside and after a few more licks he could tell that the source of her pleasure was a small, hard protrusion located at the point two of her folds connected. Another difference between elves and what he was used to, Sliver noted, as all the sensitive parts female Minions had down below were on the inside. While it felt like an odd place for him, considering it meant elven women probably didn't enjoy mating as much as Minions did, he welcomed this difference right now, as he was not quite ready to lick his own sauce out of Melyna's canal.

After this little reveal, Sliver's attention closed in on the small nub. His tongue circled around it like it had been doing with her nipples, flicked it and pressed against it. Melyna struggled against her ropes and moaned even louder than she did before, despite the area Sliver concentrated on being so small. His claws spread her folds and forced them as widely open as he ropes did with her legs. Exposed like this, the nub had nothing to throw against Sliver's advances.

It didn't take long for Sliver's work to pay off; he was lucky he could get his face out of the way when Melyna's lower body bucked up on the throes of a climax. Sliver forced her midsection down and continued to lick her through her spasms, her moaning and panting being music in her ears. He continued until he felt her body go limp underneath his hands, all tension gone.

Melyna let out a deep, satisfied sigh. “This was exceptional,” she exhaled.

Sliver nodded with a grin and sat down beside her, watching an elf enthusiastically mating with the grass bear he had seen before on a neighbouring platform.

All of a sudden, he saw Melyna stand in front of him. Surprised, Sliver turned his head and he saw that he was not mistaking Melyna for a similarly-looking elf, as the ropes Sliver had used to tie her down were lying coiled around the cushion and empty. The elf had somehow gotten out of the ropes as easily as he had tied her up.

“What you did, Sliver, that was impressive.” She gave him a wink. “Want to mate?”

Sliver didn't need to have it said twice.

Guffin had always been more of a watcher than an actor. Whenever he had picked up the sounds or smells of mating in the Barracks, he had been there watching from the shadows or a ledge high above. And on this day, scenes unfolded in front of his eyes that were more astounding than those in his wildest dreams.

Walking over the platforms and runways in invisibility, his wide eyes caught all kinds of the most unusual of things. There were elven pairs or even bigger groups united on nearly every pile of pillows, in all kinds of constellations. Some of them got really creative; a pair was dangling above his head holding onto the branches with their legs and consummating each other upside-down, while the squealing he had heard before turned out to be an elven woman being taken by the vines summoned by a male plant singer with another man pleasuring him with his tongue in return. Elves were not the only ones he saw celebrating the evening, as a cross-eyed gnome thrusting into a large beetle to his right showed.

Looking left and right, Guffin couldn't decide where he should look, everywhere something was happening, all of it was exciting to watch and the pressure in his nethers only demanded its release louder. His wandering eyes finally found the right place to solve his problem. Ahead, there was a ladder leading up to a small, unoccupied platform from where he would have a really good view on everything happening around him, being able to watch all of it at once.

Lying down into the soft pillows on the platform, Guffin's eyes focused on an elf just in the moment he began to slowly slide into a large Everlightian spider while gently stroking her pedipalps and kissing her fangs. The Green shifted his position a bit to watch the pair better, everted his own poker and began to stroke it in the same rhythm as the elf did with the spider's legs, keeping the tissue of his loincloth between it and his palm. He could imagine why some of the other Greens found those giant spiders so appealing. Right now, Guffin felt being drawn towards this delightful combination of hard carapace on the legs and the soft, fuzzy abdomen himself.

A moan coming from the other side took his attention off the elf mating with the spider. Curious, Guffin turned around and was greeted by the sight of an elven woman wearing nothing but a headband and decorative flowers on her left arm lower herself on the pointy hat of a grinning gnome sitting underneath her, while a gaggle of yet more gnomes around them squeaked and cheered. This was way more interesting to watch than the spider, Guffin decided. He would have never guessed elven women were able to take in objects as long or as thick as a gnome hat and seeing such a hat vanish inside her nethers up to the gnome's head was better than any magic trick. Enraptured by the sight, Guffin had all but forgotten about the spider.

“Aw, what are you doing here, all alone,” a high-pitched voice asked next to Guffin's ear. Yelping in surprise, he grabbed one of the pillows to cover himself up. He must have lapsed out of his invisibility without noticing while being distracted by the elf and the gnomes. In front of him there were two exceptionally rare creatures hovering in the air on their hyaline insect wings. Everlightian fairies were large and fat, half elven priestess, half turnip, and there were a lot of them participating in the celebration. But those two were the smaller and way more elegant fairies from Evernight, combining the sleekness of an elven warrior with that of a dragonfly.

“Yes yes, you can celebrate Yernayar with us instead!”

Guffin relaxed and took the pillow off, but still looked at the fairies with lopsided ears. He was not quite sure how that was going to work; the elven woman with the gnome hat already impressed him, but the difference between his equipment and the fairies was even more mismatched than that.

The fairies showed him soon enough, as they were all over Guffin's flute the moment they landed. Wrapping their legs around the base, their hands going everywhere, stroking over creases and turning an ever larger part of their attention on the fleshy spines that began to emerge as a reward for their focused attention. Guffin watched their work with fascination, reclining in the pillows and letting the two have their way with him.

The fairies' dextrous hands didn't take long to make the shaft release its prongs.

“Look, look!” the left one called with an exhilarated voice. “Two ends, one for each of us!”

“How pretty they feel!” the right one agreed, reaching up and stroking the tip on her side.

The two didn't hesitate long. Fluttering up, they grabbed one prong each and lowered themselves on the tips, supported by their legs and beating wings. It was like they were riding a strange mount, letting out little squeals of joy. Guffin was panting himself and tense, not content to just watch any more, but he knew any movement too large or too sudden would have thrown the fairies off and ended those unique sensations he was experiencing. Seeing the fairies getting slower and struggling with staying up in their awkward position, he got an idea.

Guffin took the two fairies into his hands and began to move them up and down himself, a friendly gesture met with elated squeals, the two fairies cheering him on to do it faster and harder. Not needing to support themselves any more, they repositioned themselves into more comfortable positions in Guffin's loose grip, the left pulling her legs up to his wrist and the right turning over, wrapping her hands around his thumb.

Guffin tried out everything he could think of. He moved them slowly, he moved them quickly. He moved them up and down both at the same time or let one go up and the other down. Small movements, big movements, making the prongs simply slide in and out or gyrating his hands to tickle the fairies deep inside. They told him what they liked the most and Guffin eagerly complied to their wishes, as listening to their pleasured squeals was as good as watching them enjoy themselves or feeling their squirming in his hands.

It didn't take long until the first fairy reached her climax, arching her back and her small body throwing itself against Guffin's hand. The second followed just after. He himself went on and on, pleased more with the sight of the fairies than with the sensations below. While the most sensitive parts of his tool were exploring the tunnels of the fairies, most of it was out in the warm, heavy Everlightian air and together with the herbs not just increasing his desire to mate but also the stamina in doing so, Guffin was allowed to watch the fairies climax in his hands several times this evening.

But even the gentle teasing and the effects of the herbs didn't allow him to go on forever. As Guffin felt the pressure build up himself, he moved the two fairies faster, but he couldn't watch on as he was finally granted release, throwing his head back into the pillows and shutting his eyes. There was only his own furious heartbeat in his ears while his body jerked in the rhythm of discharge, but as his sense of feeling was not shut down in these precious moments, he could feel the fairies inflate in his hands like balloons from the amount of fluids he was pumping into them.

As his senses returned back to normal, Guffin could hear the pleasured moans of the two little creatures he held and see the bliss on their faces.

“So... much...” the left one sighed.

Guffin opened his hands. He had held them in a loose grip the entire time, the fairies would have wound out of it if whatever he was doing to them had been unpleasant, but they had remained there the entire time. Now that he had finished and wasn't able to please the two any more, they had to part ways. The fairies got up on shaky legs to pull the prongs out of them, each creating a small fountain of thick, sticky fluid once their tunnels became unplugged and deflated to their natural, sleek shape.

“Much better than doing it alone, isn't it?” the right fairy cheerfully said. “I do hope we meet again like that.”

Waving their farewell, the two fairies fluttered off, leaving Guffin panting and grinning widely behind. He needed to rest for a bit, but then he would go to find something else. Looking up from his position between the pillows, he saw several Everlightian fairies fluttering around and searching for the next partner to mate with. Just perfect, Guffin thought, as after this pleasing encounter with two dragonflies he had grown an appetite for turnip.

Morel could have hit herself for her recklessness. With the smoke kettle messing with her mind, she had run off the moment she had gotten out of the vines in search for someone or something to ease that pressure in her nethers, when all she had to do had been to have her way with either Sliver or Guffin, but now both of them had run off to have fun somewhere else, she was left to find herself a partner among the diverse populace of the elven settlement.

Most of those she passed were elves, and there was no way she would be able to fit the stakes their men were brandishing. Gnomes would have been a better choice, but every gnome she saw was already occupied with someone or something else, they were not picky at all. Most of them were humping birds or beetles, some even the holes in the wood the platforms were made of. Maybe if she joined in with the plant singers that summoned writhing vines to do anything they desired...?

Her wandering eyes were drawn to a platform built around the thick trunk of a tree, well-lit by torches and filled with cushions with several baskets of fruit to the side. Some of the baskets had bananas in them, long slender yellow fruits with a firm peel. Morel shrugged; if there was nothing else to quench those flames, a banana would do.

Looking into the basket, she saw that the bananas were all too big, too. Digging around in the fruit, she checked if there were some smaller ones hidden underneath, raising her tail up in the air to let the evening breeze cool down the heat below a bit during her search. She stopped searching when there was suddenly a gentle hand stroking over her raised tail.

“When you're done eating, care to celebrate Yernayar with me?”

Morel turned around and saw the smiling face of a red-haired elf. A part of her wanted to tell the elf to get lost. The cludgel dangling a short distance below that face looked the right size right now, but she was sure it wouldn't be once inflated. The other part of her was eager to take in even her previous Overlord if he would ask her, and that part was winning over reason now. Morel's mouth split in a toothy grin and she nodded.

The elf's stroking hands guided her over to the pillows, where she sank down. The hands explored every inch of her body, sometimes gently, sometimes firmly, like a sculptor molding clay. They didn't break their movement when they gradually took off her clothing, piece by piece, leaving more exposed skin for them to explore. But they didn't come even close to the fire burning below, they only threw more fuel into it. Morel was panting and squirming in the pillows, nothing short of begging the elf to take her, her worries about it not working all but forgotten by now.

Thankfully, the elf seemed to get the hint as finally his hands began to slowly, tantalizingly close in on their goal. Morel pushed back against the hands as they traveled down her stomach and dug her claws into the wood between the cushions when the hands reached the inner thighs of her widely-parted legs.

Just why was the elf not starting proper? The herbs that were burned everywhere in the settlement right now must have had the same effect on him like it had on her, possibly even stronger, yet he took his time with just using his hands.

Morel's string of thoughts was interrupted when those hands finally, finally reached her parted, aching fold. The elf still didn't enter her but used his hands to play with it, pulling it further open, squeezing it shut and tracing every wrinkle, trailing her fluids wherever his fingers went.

Morel couldn't keep to herself. “Just... do it...”

As if this had been what the elf was waiting for all the time, something slipped into her tunnel with no resistance and Morel exhaled sharply. A bit surprised, she registered this was still the elf's finger. Just like he did it on the outside, the finger was now gently exploring her inside. While this did dampen her herb-fueled lust a little bit, this teasing was far from satisfying. Morel pushed against the finger to guide it in deeper, but the elf just followed her movement and continued to stay where he was.

“Relax, everything on its time. Enjoy the moment.”

Morel wanted to say something rude in return, but she stayed where she was, clenching her inner muscles around the elf's finger to make the best out of it. A second finger joined the first, eliciting a sigh from her. More such sounds escaped her when the elf began to twist and wriggle his fingers, repeatedly parting them, each time a bit more. He still went very slow and was more successful with only adding to the ache in her nethers.

Morel couldn't take the teasing any more. She jumped up and leered at the elf salaciously.

“Now,” she roughly hissed.

The elf gave her a disarming smile and leaned back against the cushions propped up against the tree trunk. His pole, now proudly standing, was presented to her in a most inviting manner. Looking at it, Morel was pretty sure there was no way it would fit, but she didn't care if this was too big or not. She wanted that thing to be inside her.

Morel straddled the elf, her hands on his shoulders, while the elf held her by the hips in return. His rod's tip was resting against her tunnel's entrance, ready to enter.

She went down on it as slowly as the elf had been teasing her before, her teeth clenched in anticipation of the pain. But the pain never came; her canal greedily devoured the elf's sausage, throbbing against it with pleasure so intense Morel had to pause gasping when the tip's ridge had slipped inside.

The elf, who had teased himself just as much as he had teased her by only watching as his hands had been focused only on her body, was baring his teeth in bliss himself. Morel went down as far as she could, then rose up again, supported by the elf's hands. Slowly at first, because despite being painless it was still a very tight fit, but a little bit faster every time.

Being deaf to her own rough panting and her eyes focused on nothing, all her attention was concentrated on her nethers to savour every bit of the intense sensations. It was only when the elf tapped on her thigh she became aware of the outside world again.

Pausing but eagerly waiting to continue, Morel's eyes focused on the elf's face. He was a bit red in the face, sweating and just as out of breath as her.

“I want to continue in a different position. May you get up?”

Morel was a bit displeased with the elf wanting her to stop, but at the same time she was curious what he had planned. She rose from the elf's lap and let his hands guide her into the position she wanted: Lying on her stomach, her rear propped up by a cushion and her tail bent to the side. The elf planted his hands left and right next to her neck and she felt his rod go inside again, but this time it felt completely different.

The angle was another one, but the most important change was his ridge now raking over the much more sensitive back wall of her tunnel. Morel hissed and arched her back against the elf's hips, her tail wrapping around him to push him closer. This time it was the elf who was giving the pace, but now he was not to tease, but to please. Having more freedom in his movements in this position, the elf rotated his hips every time he was at his deepest and shifted his position to push against her most sensitive spots, watching her reactions to find out where exactly those spots were.

The elf went on and on, and finally Morel could feel his work taking shape. She would have climaxed at least three times over in the time they have been mating already, but it seemed the herbs not only had fueled her desires, but also greatly lengthened the road she had to take for release to be granted. Now release became visible on the horizon, heralding itself by the already intense sensations becoming even more acute, making her jolt and shake uncontrollably under the elf with her back spines getting dangerously close to his chest.

Morel felt the elf shift position and suddenly it was her changing posture as well when he grabbed her by the left leg and turned her on her side. Her and the elf's eyes met, but all of a sudden, those blue eyes vanished behind a haze and Morel let out a squeal of ecstasy when the rod, having always pushed hard against the intersection, slipped past it and went up into the left tunnel. The elf's hips slammed against her behind.

“I didn't expect that was possible,” the elf exhaled, briefly pausing in his movements.

Then he continued, but rather than going in and out like before, he ground his hips against hers, not daring to let his tip slide out of the alley he had just found himself in.

It didn't matter for Morel how he went at it, the entire length filling her out and pushing against her cramping inner musculature created sensations too intense for her to resist any longer. Arching her back, she let out a drawn-out hiss as all the work the elf did was finally rewarded with a climax so intense she almost fainted. Her shivering rear and her inner musculature squeezing down hard on his rod in waves was the last thing needed for the elf to finish as well. Morel could feel him going limp inside her before he rolled off and laid down next to her, panting and blissfully grinning at her.

Morel closed her eyes and rolled on her back herself, enjoying the satisfying warmth the elf had left behind to replace that unpleasant fire the herbs had ignited. Unfortunately, this was only temporary, as the smoke wafting through the air everywhere would soon ignite it again.

She wasn't sure yet if she would mate with the same elf again or look for a different one. The others had surely other skills she wanted to experience being used on herself and now that Morel was proven wrong in the question of whether it was possible for her to fit an elven stake or not, she was eager to find out what exciting new positions and techniques the other elves had to offer.

Being the one closest to the smoke kettle, Bile had gotten it the worst. He didn't know what kind of herbs had been in there, but his heart was beating in his throat and and his mind was dead-set on finding something to release that almost-unbearable pressure that had built up in his lower regions. He would have had a go at Morel then and there, but he still had a shred of self-control and he did remember getting scratched up quite savagely the last time he tried to court a female of his own species.

The herb-powered urges were so strong that Bile didn't search for long; just on the next platform, some supplies were stored. Several bags made of a rough fabric, some crates with bananas, a large, oval watermelon. Bile grinned widely upon seeing the melon, licking his lips. The fruit was just perfect. Supple, big, its skin glistening appealingly. The only downside was that it had no suitable orifice, but Bile took care of this problem by punching a hole into one end of the fruit with his claws.

He wasted no more time with any preparations, he just flung his loincloth off and slid into the self-made hole immediately. A drawn-out sigh escaped his mouth when his member was engulfed by the cool, firm pulp. It felt just right in his herb-meddled mind. Bile started out with moving slowly, but his urges told him to go faster, something he was more than eager to follow.

Grinning from ear to ear, Bile humped away at the melon, letting its juice flow out from the hole freely and pooling between his feet. This was an experience much better than anything he had ever felt before. None of his previous mating partners could compete with this. The smell of an aroused female, the warmth, the rough scales rubbing against his own, he would trade all of it for the coolness of this watermelon's insides and the little seeds tickling him in just the right places.

Time and space had become an indiscernible mess inside Bile's head, but after seconds or hours, he began to feel that it would be over soon. His movements, ever more furious the closer he was to finishing, came to a cramping halt, his whole body trembling with tension and soon it was not just the melon's juice alone that flowed from the hole. As the spasms waned and Bile was released from the throes of the most intense climax to his experience, he slid off the fruit with a groan and onto the cloth bags. He looked at the fruit fondly, stroking over the smooth, firm skin and sighed. This was an experience he needed to relive as soon as possible. And this evening, powered by the elven herbs in the smoke, he would mate with this perfect partner again and again.

Yernayar continued through the evening, with torches being ignited throughout the settlement to replace the fading sunlight, and through the entire night. Whatever herbs the elves had mixed together to fill the smoke kettles, they allowed everyone to go on and on without getting tired. The feast's attendants entertained themselves in every way they could come up with and with anyone willing, only occasionally interrupting their celebration for a few bites of fruit or a few gulps of juice. But even with the herbs' effects, the celebrations gradually died down and at sunrise everyone was asleep.

Not much later Sliver climbed down a ladder and had solid ground underneath his feet again. He grinned widely, both because of the great time he had with Melyna, that weird elf who loved to be tied up with ropes, and because of the large but surprisingly light bag he had slung over his back.

The other three Greens came down not much later. Bile looked equally pleased, but Sliver noticed that rather than smelling like elf, he was smelling like melon, as if he had spent his time eating instead of mating. Guffin appeared even more pleased, shimmering with fairy dust. Morel appeared last and Sliver couldn't help himself but laugh at her very bow-legged walk.

“Shut up,” she hissed.

“No reason to be angry,” Sliver tried to calm her down. “Look what I got!”

He took the bag off his back and the others could easily tell by smell what it contained.

“Enough for next months,” Morel called out elatedly.

“Enough to throw it into lava and let entire Barracks have fun,” Guffin snickered.

“No,” Sliver said, looking up briefly. They all had just returned from celebrating a fertility festival with the elves and now his head was clearer again, all of it began to feel rather embarrassing. All the other Minions would laugh their heads off if they heard about it and Overlady Jinx would be not pleased if she would find out what they had been doing up there, dealing out pleasure for elves rather than death.

“This will be our secret.”


End file.
